


don't leave

by Hugabug



Category: Buzzfeed The Try Guys (Web Series)
Genre: Drunkenness, Established Relationship, M/M, Moving In Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 03:51:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13379544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hugabug/pseuds/Hugabug
Summary: After filming the 50 states, 50 drinks video, Zach has to drag Eugene's clingy, drunk ass home.





	don't leave

“Eugene’s had too much to drink.”

It isn’t a phrase anyone has ever thought they’d hear in their life time. Yet here they are, at work on a Friday afternoon, mouths hanging open, hush quiet, all eyes trained on a sober Zach and a giggling, clingy, drunk as fuck Eugene. It’s a rare, once in a life time occurrence and Ned is snapping pictures to commemorate it.

Keith’s eyebrows, on the other hand, nearly disappear up his hair line in concern. “ _Eugene’s_  had too much to drink?” he says, incredulously. “Is that amount of alcohol safe for a human? Should we pump his stomach or something?”

“Nah, he’ll live–  _ack_ , Eugene, no.” Zach reprimands, slapping a wondering hand away from his belt loop. Eugene pouts, but does as told, chastised into submission– and yeah, that’s really unusual. “Just make sure all the footage is saved because I’m pretty sure he’ll delete it all himself if I let him anywhere near it. I’m taking him home.”

Ashly (who is holding up a very tipsy Kelsey) digs around for her phone, “Do you need an Uber?”

“That’d be great, yes please.”

It doesn’t take long for the Uber to get there–only about five minutes– and in those five minutes Zach does his best to make sure Eugene’s hands stay above the waist and where he can see them. “You’re drunk and we’re in public, Gene, it’s bad form.” becomes a mantra very quickly, and once they’re in the back of the Uber, bidding goodbye to everyone, Eugene is placated, wrapped around Zach’s arm like an anaconda. Zach can tell Ashly is trying very hard not to laugh. Zach thanks her. Compared to Ned’s devious glee, she has been the better human today.

The car ride is short, too, lasting only about 10 minutes and Eugene is blessedly silent and still throughout. Zach suspects he’s asleep at some point, but when he looks down he’s met with an almost awed stare, brown eyes staring at him intensely in the midst of the setting sun. Zach doesn’t question it, instead turning away to get the sudden flush crawling up his neck under control. Thankfully, the rest of the ride goes without incident, and they make it home in record time.

Eugene, this time, is a cooperative drunk. After he stops cooing over his dogs whilst giving them way more food than they usually have, he gulps down a glass of water (and another when Zach asks) and he immediately strips for bed, actually stopping at his boxers for the first time in forever. It’s such a big foil to the usually hyper and loose drunk everyone and the internet has witnessed before that Zach is slightly disturbed. “This was a bad idea and you are never doing it again, agreed?”

A firm nod. “Ok.”

“Ok.”

He moves to get up, ready to go call a cab back to his own apartment and call it a night, but Eugene tugs on his hand, silently, a pout already forming on his face. “Stay here,” he demands. Zach rolls his eyes and tries to get his hand away. But even when inebriated, Eugene is stronger than him, and instead of breaking free, like Zach hoped, he ends up in Eugene’s lap, the other man’s arms wrapped snuggly around his waist.

“Eugene,” he sighs, rolling his eyes as Eugene makes a mad grab for his hand, whining very loudly to be pet. “Dude, I have to go home.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Um. Yes, I do.”

“No.”

“Yes–  _oof_ , Eugene, too tight.”

Eugene harrumphs, like a child, but he loosens his grip anyway, lifting his head up to glare directly at Zach– who, for the record, is keeping a marvelously straight face despite the situation. “I need to feed Bowie, Gene.” Eugene pouts. “Don’t give me that look.”

“Is it working?”

Zach laughs, lifting up a hand to smooth Eugene’s hair out of his face. This disarms the other man, completely, exactly what Zach was hoping to do, and Eugene’s head tips forward until he’s resting on Zach’s chest again. Content and sleepy. “Don’t go.”

Zach rolls his eyes. Fondly. “Have to.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“I have to.”

“Zach.” Eugene whines, a high pitched sound that is more than odd to hear coming from the mouth of a thirty year old man. Still, Zach smiles, that little flutter in his chest flaring up again at the prospect that he’s the only one who gets to see Eugene like this, stripped of all bravado and whining for Zach’s attention like he actually wants it. He tries not to get too drunk on it, the feeling of being this loved, wary of just how easily it can be taken away, but when Eugene says his name like that, well. It’s gets really difficult to watch where you’re falling.

“I really have to go, Gene.” He says, gently squirming out of the other man’s hold. “I’ll see you tom–”

“Just move in with me.”

Zach stills. “ _What_?”

“Move in with me,” the words are slurred, but said with such conviction that Zach wonders if this is less a spontaneous idea and more of something that has been months in the making. “Here. With Bowie. With me. I want you here with me.”

It’s suddenly very hard to speak. “I–”

“Don’t say ‘no’.” Eugene cuts him off, lifting his head again to show him pleading eyes, wide and scared. “Please don’t say no.”

“Gene–” Zach swallows, hard, feeling the lump in his throat burn, painfully, into the back of his throat. They’ve only been together for a couple of months– sure they’ve been friends for years and they’ve seen sides to each other that no one, not even the whole internet, has seen. But it’s only been a couple of months. Is that– Would that be enough? Is a couple of months  _enough_?

Zach chooses his next words carefully; “Let me… let me sleep on it.”

Eugene’s eyes widen, something vulnerable flashing in them and staying there, pulsating right under the transparent surface. There are no walls, torn down to debris either by alcohol or something else entirely, Zach isn’t sure. He’s almost afraid to ask. His heart is pounding in his ears.

“Why?” Eugene croaks, a little rough. A little broken. “Don’t you– I thought–”

“No, no, not– Don’t– Hey,” he cups Eugene’s face in both hands, completely ignoring how his own fingers are trembling, how shallow his breathing has become. “Just. I want to really think about it, ok? It’s a big thing. I’ve never– I’ve never reached this point before. I want to do it right.” He takes a deep breath. “I want to do this right.”

Eugene’s hold tightens, shaking, just slightly. “Don’t leave.”

Terror grips Zach’s rib cage, squeezes until he can feel his whole body imploding into itself. He doesn’t know what will happen tomorrow, if Eugene will wake up and remember, and if he’ll wake up to regret ever opening his mouth. Every part of him now is dying to flee the scene, grab his stuff and go, curl up in his bed with his dog and try to forget enough to fall asleep. But Eugene is looking at him with chest flayed open, free for Zach to dissect, free for him to take and take. He is raw in Zach’s hands, tender and oh so vulnerable, it freezes him in his tracks.

Zach lets out a shaky sigh. “Let me call Ned,” he tells him. “And then I’ll stay.”

He slips out of Eugene’s arms and goes to make the call asking Ned to take care of Bowie (“Eugene holding you hostage for tonight?” “Something like that.”), trying so badly to regain his ability to breathe properly. The dogs sit at his feet, tongues lolling out in search of attention, and he absentmindedly scratches their scruff as Ned hangs up, the dial tone ringing in his ears. It takes a minute or two, but once he’s ready, he, too, strips down to his boxers and slips under the covers where a dozing Eugene lays.

“Hey,” he whispers, as the other man immediately wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him flush against his chest. “For the record? The only thing I know how to cook is eggs and I never fold my laundry.”

Eugene smiles, sleepily. It’s so soft, Zach feels it in his finger tips.

He wonders if this is what forever feels like. “Just an FYI.”

“Ok,” Eugene laughs. “I look forward to it.”

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](en-sam-malas.tumblr.com)   
>  [tumblr ver.](http://en-sam-malas.tumblr.com/post/168569364117/someone-on-anon)


End file.
